Wanting You the Way I Do
Dec. 30th, 2011 06:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grianchlochFic title: Wanting You the Way I Do
Characters: Dean/Dean Forester, Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Word count:
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
seleneheart
Notes: A gift forbewaretheides15 as part of the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spn_j2_xmas exchange.
Dearbewaretheides15,
I used one of your prompts as a starting point:
Dean/Dean Forester from Gilmore Girls. Dean somehow meets Dean as he's passing through Stars Hollow. Sex ensues involving Dean (Winchester)calling Dean (Forester) 'Sammy' and lots of implied Wincesty UST.
I hope it works for you!
Here's wishing you a happy New Year!!
Summary: Dean's tired of Sam and John fighting, but when he decides to stay the night in Stars Hollow on his way back to them, he meets someone he never expected to.
Dean had never intended to stay overnight in Stars Hollow. He was on his way back to John and Sam after a successful hunt with Caleb, and all out of salt and low on lighter fluid. It was meant to be a supply run. He reckoned that there must be a market in the town where he could pick up an emergency supply of at least salt.
Dean drove the Impala through the middle of the town. It was all decked out with Christmas lights and the trees were covered in stars and sparkles. He found somewhere to park just off the town square. As soon as he got out and locked the door, he could smell the scent of coffee on the air, so he followed his nose and found himself pushing open the door of a small diner. It was warm inside, and although it was busy, he found a table in the corner opposite the door and sat down, slipping his jacket off and hanging it on the back of the chair.
A perky waitress wearing glasses took his order, and brought his coffee straight away. She grinned at him, and wove in and out of the tables as she worked her way back to the counter. Dean slowly relaxed, for the first time in a while.
It was nice, sitting on his own, without the constant bickering that was always present when he was with John and Sam now. Separately, they were fine. John was gruff, all business and hunting, but he would mellow out a little after a few drinks and become decent company. That’s when he would tell Dean stories of when he was a kid, of his own Dad, and about his time in the marines.
As for Sam, Dean couldn’t imagine being apart from him for too long. Although lately, Sam had been pissed off with the whole hunting lifestyle, and Dean knew that sometimes included him. The days were gone when Sam would follow him around, looking up to his big brother and Dean knew it was lame, but he missed that. Now, he was lucky if he got a grunt or two out of Sam, unless he was coming back from a hunt, when Sam’s first concern was still to make sure Dean was in one piece.
Dean sighed and sipped on his coffee, taking his time and soaking up a little of the seasonal spirit that hung in the air in the small town. Half an hour later, he wandered through the store the waitress had directed him to, looking for the salt. There hadn’t been any bags of rock salt outside, so he reckoned cooking salt would do for now. He glanced down one aisle and two steps later, backed up and stared at the young guy filling the shelves.
"Sam?" Dean whispered.
His brother was supposed to be back at the apartment they’d been living in for months. But that was a state and a half away, so what the hell was he doing in the middle of nowhere stacking shelves?
The kid didn't look up, not until Dean walked towards him, openly staring. Then he got to his feet and smiled.
"Can I help you?"
Dean looked at the kid and shook his head. No, not Sam. The kid's face was more open, less sullen than the baby brother who rebelled against everything in their world at every opportunity he got.
"No, you reminded me of someone." Dean grinned and shrugged. "Sorry."
"No problem." The kid knelt back down again and got on with the job.
Dean turned to go, but stopped and turned back. The kid looked up at him again.
"I’m looking for salt."
"Sure. I'll show you." Tall, dark, lanky and not Sam got to his feet and led Dean two aisles over.
"So who do I remind you of?"
"Huh?"
"Back there, you said I reminded you of someone."
Dean felt strangely reluctant to say "my brother".
"A friend. I haven't seen him for a while." Or at least that’s what it felt like sometimes.
"Do you miss him?"
"Yeah, I do. We grew up together." Dean stopped himself and shrugged. "Things change."
"Yeah, you're right there." The kid looked wistful.
"You missing someone too?"
The kid squirmed a little and Dean was just about to say that it was none of his business when he replied.
"Not missing them exactly, I just don't know what I want any more." He shrugged and grinned shyly, looking down and letting his bangs fall across his face. "If that makes any kind of sense."
"Yeah, it does." Dean took a chance. "Listen, I'm only in town tonight and you sound like you could do with some company. Do you want to grab a beer after you finish here?"
The kid looked at him and chewed on his lip.
"I'm nineteen, and this is a small town, so ..." He didn't need to spell it out for Dean. Everyone knew everyone else. It wasn’t like he was Sam, with a fake ID in his pocket and no-one to know any different if he walked into a bar.
"Okay, too bad."
"Thanks, though, for the offer."
Dean nodded and grabbed five bags of salt from the shelf. The kid eyed him.
“I think there’s a couple of bags of rock salt out the back, if that would be better?”
“Yeah, sure.”
The kid picked up one bag, and Dean grabbed the other, and after he’d paid, they took them out to the Impala.
“Sweet ride.” The kid’s eyes roamed over her appreciatively.
“She is that,” Dean beamed. "What's your name?"
"Dean."
"Dean?"
"Yeah, Dean Forester. Is there a problem with that?"
"No, it's my name too."
Dean Two’s eyes widened and he snorted with laughter. "Well, Dean, it was good to meet you.”
He stuck his hand out, so Dean took it, giving it a manly shake, but the kid held on a little longer than he’d expected. Dean eyed him again, wondering what would have happened if they had been able to get that drink together.
“Yeah, see you around.” Dean closed the trunk of the car and slid into the driver’s seat.
His palm tingled where Dean Two’s hand had lingered, and a stray thought crossed his mind.
“It would be like kissing Sam.”
Dean’s hand slipped, and he crashed the gears as he pulled away, shaking his head to rid himself of any more disturbing thoughts.
Dean drove to the motel on the far side of town. The server in the coffee shop had recommended an inn, but Dean’s budget wasn’t going to stretch that far. He grabbed his bag from the trunk, showered and ordered pizza to go with the half bottle of Jack he’d got stashed in his stuff.
There was a sharp rap on the door, and he picked up his wallet, thinking it would be the pizza arriving, but when he opened the door, his namesake was standing outside.
“Huh.” Dean stepped back, surprised. “Hey ... Dean Two.”
“Hi.” The kid held up a six pack and grinned at Dean. “Is the offer still open?”
“Sure.” Dean swung the door wider to let Dean Two into the room. “How’d you know where to find me?”
“Well, I figured you wouldn’t stay at the inn, and this is pretty much the only other place around, so I took a chance and recognised your car.”
Before Dean could close the door, the pizza arrived. The kid who delivered it eyed Dean Two standing just inside Dean’s motel room, and took the money and tip with a nod. When Dean kicked the door shut behind him and put the pizza down on the small table, he noticed Dean Two looking uncomfortable with a hint of color high on his cheeks.
“Small towns,” Dean Two explained when Dean motioned him over to sit on the couch and share the pizza. “Everyone knows everyone else. You know how that is?”
“Not really,” Dean shrugged. “My Dad travels around a lot for work, so we’ve always been on the road.”
“I’d like that kind of freedom.” Dean Two sounded wistful.
“You got something keeping you here? Or someone?” Dean asked as he popped open a bottle for himself and nudged another in Dean Two’s direction. The kid shrugged, and tucked into another piece of pizza. “Come on, man, there has to be a story here.”
“Why do you think I have a story?”
“You said earlier that you were missing someone. And now you’re drinking with a stranger in his motel room.”
Dean Two drank down half of the bottle in his hand, then took a deep breath. It looked to Dean as if he had come to a decision about something, so he sat forward, curious about the stranger who looked so very much like Sam.
“I was married until a few months ago, but my wife found out that I cheated on her with my ex, and ended it. My ex was the love of my life and it’s her I’m having a hard time getting over, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with my life.” Dean Two grabbed the bottle of Jack that was sitting on the table, twisted the cap off and gulped back a good mouthful as Dean watched with raised eyebrows. He took the bottle from the kid, and swallowed a mouthful himself.
“Dude, how old are you? You’ve got a failed marriage and have lost the love of your life and you don’t look older than fifteen!” Dean jostled Dean Two’s shoulder.
“I’m nineteen.” He grumbled, but there was a small smile playing around his lips.
“You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, man. You’ll make plenty more mistakes, trust me, but you can do whatever you want.”
“Yeah?” Dean Two looked up at Dean and blinked those oh so familiar eyes.
“Yeah.” Dean shrugged.
Before Dean could take another shot straight from the bottle, Dean Two moved closer, and kissed him. Dean started, taken aback by the bold move, causing Dean Two to pull straight back. He got to his feet, blushing and running a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry ... I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s okay, it’s no big deal.” Dean stood up, holding out his hands, wanting to calm Dean Two down.
“It isn’t?”
“Why did you come here tonight?”
“I don’t ... I’m not sure.” Dean Two bit his lip, reminding Dean even more of his brother.
“You ever kissed a guy before?” Dean stepped into his space.
“No.” Dean Two ducked his head, shaking it. “But I’ve thought about it.”
Dean reached forward, put a finger under his chin and tilted his head back up.
“Do you want to do it again?”
Dean Two nodded, his breath suddenly ragged. “Yeah, yeah I do.”
Dean slipped his hand onto Dean Two’s neck and urged him forward. This time when their lips met, Dean was ready for it and parted his, kissing Dean Two gently at first until the kid groaned into his mouth. It took a heartbeat for Dean to get with the program and understand that he may as well be kissing his brother. The shock of what he was doing hit him as a sharp spike of arousal, and instead of pushing Dean Two away, he moved closer, arching his back as Dean Two’s curious fingers explored under the hem of his shirt, finding skin.
Dean pulled Dean Two back down to the couch, pushing a hand under the soft fabric of his t shirt. The kid squirmed against Dean, hissing into his mouth at the first touch. He surged against him, kissing him harder, as Dean’s hand ran up the curve of his spine.
Dean went with it, lying back against the cushions on the worn couch, letting Dean Two rut against him, pushing his hips up and groaning at the eager response he got. Dean Two squirmed, unfastening the buttons of Dean’s shirt with clumsy fingers. Dean softly bit down on the kiss swollen bottom lip that was brushing against his, sucking on the trapped flesh until Dean Two was gasping and grinding down. The movement increased in urgency as Dean slid a hand down the back of Dean Two’s loose jeans, cupping his ass and squeezing.
“God yes.” Dean Two breathed, and pulled back, looking at Dean with lust darkened eyes.
Dean faltered in his exploration of Dean Two’s body. The kid was the image of Sam and it hit Dean hard that it was a freaky situation to be in. He’d never thought of Sam like that before, but now, he couldn’t stop himself. Still, he hesitated, knowing the sensible thing, the right thing to do would be to push Dean Two away, to give him lame excuses and send him on his way.
But Dean Two bent down, placing a soft kiss on the side of Dean’s jaw.
“Sammy.” Dean moaned softly, then froze. Thinking it was one thing, but saying his name out loud was different.
“It’s okay.” Dean Two whispered in his ear.
Dean couldn’t help tilting his head back, giving Dean Two easier access to his neck, which the kid took advantage of, kissing his way down the side of Dean’s throat. He pushed Dean’s shirt open as far as he could, and continued on, along Dean’s collar bone, working lower.
Now it was Dean’s turn to arch up, and his fingers dug into Dean Two’s messy hair. What if it was Sam? Dean wondered. If Sam was pressed against him, hard and clearly wanting more, would he be able to stop? Dean looked down as Dean Two mouthed one of his nipples, and almost came in his pants as he gave himself over to the fantasy that this was Sam, his Sammy.
“Sam,” Dean murmured, which only seemed to encourage Dean Two.
He bit down, worrying the small, hard nub between his teeth. Dean groaned, letting Dean Two take the lead for a while as the kid kissed and licked his way down Dean’s torso.
Determined fingers unfastened his belt and opened his jeans, easing the waistband of his underwear down to free his cock. Dean groaned as Dean Two ran his hand down the length of it. He wrapped his fingers around the hard flesh and gripped it firmly, the same way he would hold his own dick when he was jerking off. He looked up at Dean as he lowered his head, boldly swiping his tongue across the tip.
“There’s more room on the bed.” Dean sat up as he made the suggestion, getting to his feet as Dean Two did, and stripping off the rest of his clothes. Dean Two followed his lead, stripping down with no hesitation. He watched as Dean sprawled out over the bed furthest from the door, and dug around in his jacket pocket before joining him.
“You came prepared,” Dean commented as Dean Two dropped a tube of lube and a pack of condoms on the nightstand.
“Want you to fuck me.” Dean Two straddled Dean’s hips
Dean groaned and reached round to cup Dean Two’s ass cheeks. He pulled them apart, and grazed a finger down his crack.
“Pass me the lube.”
Dean Two did as he was told, leaning over and picking up the tube. He flipped the cap, and drizzled it over the fingers that Dean held up for him. With his clean hand, Dean pulled the kid down and kissed him, a little more gently than before. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was Sam he was indoctrinating into the joys of gay sex. Even if it wasn’t, he’d want to make the kid’s first time as good as he could, but when Dean Two looked at him with trust in his eyes, Dean was back to having Sam sitting naked on top of him, and with that came a need to protect.
“Relax. It’ll feel weird at first.”
Dean Two nodded, then straightened up as Dean’s fingers began exploring. First, he pressed on Dean Two’s hole, slipping just the tip of his finger inside and circling it around. He pushed in deeper, as Dean Two moaned and let out a long sigh. Dean felt his muscles relax, and made use of it, pulling out and adding a second finger. Dean Two’s tight hole spasmed around Dean’s fingers giving Dean an idea of what it was going to be like to be buried inside him, fucking into him.
Dean took his time, opening Dean Two as much as he could, smiling as the kid jumped then groaned long and low when Dean massaged his prostate.
It was Dean Two that grabbed the condom and tore the packet open. Dean took it from him and rolled it over his own dick. Again, he reached for the kid, giving him a reassuring kiss.
“When I start pushing in, push down, okay?”
Dean Two nodded, and as Dean lined up, and tilted his hips, Dean Two took a shaky breath and relaxed as much as he could, pushing down as Dean had told him to do. He whimpered as Dean pushed inside him, gasping and gripping onto Dean’s shoulders as he lowered himself down.
Dean put a hand on Dean Two’s face, watching him, keeping a tight rein on the urge to fuck hard and fast.
“Say his name.” The kid bent down and kissed Dean, biting at his bottom lip. “I wanna hear you say his name.”
“Sammy ...” Dean moaned as Dean Two squirmed until Dean was in him to the hilt.
“Fuck me.” Dean Two whispered in Dean’s ear and watched as Dean gave himself up to the fantasy.
He thrust up, giving the kid what he wanted, fucking him hard, holding onto his hips so tight there would be bruises there for days.
“Touch yourself.” Dean growled, running his hands up Dean Two’s spread thighs, cupping his balls and stroking his soft skin.
Dean two took his cock in hand and pulled on it as Dean fucked him. His senses overloaded, his skin prickling with sweat, his thighs aching as he rode Dean, meeting every thrust. Dean reached up with one hand, pinching a nipple, twisting it until Dean Two cried out, his body taut, ready to come apart. Dean powered into him, and spurts of come hit his chest as Dean Two came, his ass tightening around Dean suddenly, and dean followed him, filling the condom, pumping up into Dean Two with his brother’s name on his lips.
“Ah, Sam, fuck ...”
As the lay together, sweaty and sated, Dean wondered if he could ever look at Sam again without thinking about what he’d just done.
Dean Two propped himself up on one elbow and reached out to touch Dean’s shoulder.
“I think I figured out why it’s never worked out for me with girls,” he said with a rueful smile on his face.
“Really?” Dean quirked an eyebrow at him and rolled onto his side, looking at the face that could have been Sam’s.
“How about you?”
“Huh?”
“You called me Sammy. Not that it was a problem, but that’s who I remind you of, isn’t it?”
Dean paused, not wanting to give anything away, but the kid knew nothing about him or his family.
“Yeah, but I never thought about him like that before this.” Dean hoped to God that he wasn’t blushing.
“Maybe he might think the same of you, if you tell him.”
“It’s ... complicated.” Dean looked away, wishing that it was Sam lying beside him.
A hand on his face startled him, but he pressed into the touch.
“It’s always complicated.” Dean Two slid closer, and straight into Dean’s willing arms. “But if you don’t ask, you’ll never know.”
The next morning, Dean woke first and stared at Dean Two for the longest time. He wanted to kiss him awake, to see his sleepy eyes open and smile at him, wanted to touch him again, make him moan and cry out, but it wasn’t Dean Two that Dean really wanted, it was Sam.
So he slipped from the bed with a sigh, and grabbed a quick shower. He was halfway through getting dressed and packing his stuff away when he realized he was being watched.
“Sorry, I’ve got to go, got to get back to my brother before Christmas. The room’s paid for until noon, so stay as long as you like.”
“Thanks. And thanks.”
“Hey, I had a good time too.” Dean smirked.
“No, I meant for helping me realize I’ve not been honest with myself.”
“No problem,” Dean shrugged and smiled again. “Happy to help.”
“Think about telling Sam how you really feel?”
“Yeah,” Dean said, the smile slipping from his face. “I’ll think about it. Take care, man.”
“You too.”
Dean Two snuggled back down to sleep as Dean closed the door behind himself on the way out to the Impala.
Dean sat behind the wheel for a while, wondering how the hell he was going to face Sam after what he’d just done. He slammed a Metallica tape into the player, and headed out, concentrating on the heavy beat and pushing thoughts of the night before away.
Dean didn’t get back to the apartment they’d been staying in until after dark. John’s truck was already gone, but there was a light still on in the kitchen of the cosy place they’d called home for almost six months.
As he pulled up, the front door was flung open even before he’d turned the Impala’s engine off.
“You’re late.” Sam grinned as Dean grabbed his bag from the trunk. “Dad’s already gone.”
“I can see that.” Dean smiled and rolled his eyes. Lately, Sam was a different person when John wasn’t around. It made Dean long for simpler times, back when Sam was younger, but nothing could make the two of them see eye to eye.
“I didn’t think you’d make it back in time.” Sam almost bounced on the balls of his feet.
“I wouldn’t leave you alone for Christmas, Sammy, you know that.”
There was already a pizza sitting in a box on the table when Dean wandered through to the kitchen. Sam brushed past him and pulled a couple of beers from the fridge. He cracked them both open then sat down at the table and opened the box. Half the pizza was already gone, and Dean reckoned Sam must have inhaled it because his half was still warm.
“Want another slice?” Dean offered.
Sam beamed and helped himself to more pizza. He wolfed it down, and tipped the beer bottle up to his mouth, drinking deeply.
Dean watched Sam’s throat move, watched as he wrapped his mouth around the bottle to drink.
“Dean?” Sam waved a hand in front of his face.
“Yeah?” Dean snapped back, stuffing the pizza into his mouth.
“You zoned out.”
“Tired, I guess.”
Crap, he thought to himself. He had to snap out of it, had to keep himself under control. But it didn’t get any easier as the night wore on. Later, after they’d watched a couple of movies, Sam didn’t even pretend to try and sleep in his own bed, he got straight in with Dean. For the first time ever, Dean tensed up. His body had been pressed against Dean Two’s just the night before, and it wasn’t listening to Dean’s silent pleas to behave and not react to the nearness of such a familiar warmth.
“Dean? You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Dean rasped.
Sam propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at his brother. “You don’t sound fine.” He moved closer, biting on his lip.
“I, er, I’m ...” Dean looked up at Sam, and unconsciously tilted his head up.
Sam stared at him, confusion on his face and Dean blushed, right down to his toes at the memory of whispering Sam’s name as he came in Dean Two’s ass the night before.
Frowning, Sam slapped a hand against Dean’s forehead.
“Are you coming down with something? Your temperature is way up.”
“Yeah, I think I am.” Dean shivered, but not because of a non-existent fever. Sam wriggling around against him was doing all kinds of things that it really shouldn’t. “I could do with a glass of water.”
Sam threw himself out of bed, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief to have the temptation temporarily removed. He banged his head back against the pillow, refusing to let what had happened with Dean Two sour his relationship with Sam.
The door opened, and Sam walked in with water and flu meds. Dean swallowed them down dutifully.
“They’ll make you sleepy.” Sam sounded a little disappointed.
“Why don’t we go and pick up a tree tomorrow? Make the place feel like Christmas?”
Dean didn’t have a lot of cash spare, but he reckoned that with it being Christmas Eve the next day, they could pick up enough stuff on last minute sale to decorate the apartment.
“Okay.” Sam grinned, the happiness on his face making him look younger than his eighteen years.
Sam climbed into his own bed, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He glanced over to where Sam was lying, wrapped around a pillow, looking over at Dean.
“So? What happened on the hunt?”
Dean turned over to face Sam across the gap between the beds and launched into a blow by blow account of his heroics on the hunt with Caleb. He didn’t notice he was getting sleepy until he woke up to find Sam pulling the blanket further over him, and lying down next to him. Dean was sufficiently dulled by the meds not to react in the wrong way, and he happily fell straight back to sleep, curled around Sam.
The following year was a difficult one. Dean pushed his very unbrotherly feelings for Sam right down, until it was almost like his night with Dean Two never happened. But then something Sam said or did would catch him unawares, and he’d be straight back to that sick longing feeling that twisted inside him. He knew it was wrong to want Sam, and he did his best to act as if nothing had changed. Sometimes, he’d notice Sam looking at him with something unfathomable in his eyes, but he shrugged it off, hoping he hadn’t slipped and given away his feelings.
Months later, when Sam announced his intention to leave and go to Stanford, Dean bit back his gut reaction. How could he ask Sam not to leave?
He remembered what he’d told Dean Two, that he could do anything he wanted to be. He felt like the world’s biggest hypocrite because he didn’t want Sam to go, to leave him.
The first Christmas Sam was gone, Dean found himself driving towards Stars Hollow again. He’d tried his best not to think of Dean Two, but he missed Sam badly and Sam was making it clear that he had a new life now, and didn’t need Dean to crash into it.
Morose, Dean parked up in front of the market. He got out of the Impala and pulled his jacket closed against the bitingly cold wind. Inside, the market was warm and smelled of Christmas spices. He walked around the place, looking down each of the aisles, but there was no sign of Dean Two.
“Can I help you?”
Dean turned to find the owner of the chipper voice smiling up at him.
“I was looking for a friend of mine. His name’s Dean and he was working here last year.”
“Dean Forrester? He left last spring, moved back to Chicago.”
“Oh.”
“He’s doing really well for himself from what I hear.”
“That’s good to hear. Thanks.”
Dean wandered out of the market. He was about to get into the Impala and head south, roughly towards where John had been the last time they’d spoken two weeks earlier, but he noticed that people were all walking towards the town square, where a pavilion was decorated with lights.
He paused, thinking he should really get going, but instead, he allowed himself to be swept up by the slow moving crowd. Along the way, he bought coffee and pastries from vendors serving goodies from stalls. He munched on a bear claw and listened to the cheesy Christmas music that was being played by the band. As he ate, he looked around at the townspeople, wondering if either of the girls Dean Two had told him about were there, maybe missing the tall kid with dark hair just a little.
Dean suddenly realized that he was in the wrong place. He hastily finished his pastry and coffee, his mind made up. He was missing a tall kid with dark, floppy hair, and it wasn’t the one he’d slept with a year ago, it was his brother. Dean made his way back to the car, but when he left town, he didn’t head south, he headed west.
It was days before he arrived in California, and Christmas Day had come and gone, but he got to see Sam. It was from a distance, as Sam and his friends left a bar, their faces happy and Sam’s smile widening as a tall blonde girl snuggled against his side as they walked. Dean watched from where he stood in a darkened doorway across the street. It was what Sam deserved. A normal life. And if he’d found that, then Dean was happy for him.
Neither of them could have known how it would end, with Jess burned up on the ceiling and John missing.
Their first Christmas back on the road together, Dean tried to make it special for Sam. He considered taking Sam to Stars Hollow, because for Dean, the place would always be associated with Christmas, but he knew he couldn’t. Sam looking so much like Dean Two would get him noticed, Dean thought, and then there would be the explanations as to Sam about how Dean knew the place. Accomplished liar he might be, but nothing he could say would ring true, not in that case.
They found somewhere to stay over the holidays, a motel room with a kitchen, and while Sam was out picking up snacks and beer from the mini mart, Dean found a half decent tree in a local plant nursery, and because he smiled nicely at the middle aged woman who served him, he ended up with a pile of other stuff that she declared “would just go to waste”.
When Sam got back to their motel room, the small tree was in one corner, with so many lights on it could hardly stand upright, and there was a wreath lying on one of the beds, that Dean didn’t know where to hang.
Sam’s face lit up and he grinned at Dean, ducking his head down. Dean took the bags from him and set them down on the table. All they needed now was pizza and a movie to watch and they were set.
Sam sat down, studying the wreath. He picked at a couple of stems, freeing a sprig of something from the rest of the foliage.
“Sam?” Dean questioned, as Sam stood and held the sprig over his head as he turned to face Dean.
“Mistletoe,” Sam stated the obvious.
“Yeah, but ...”
“I dare you.”
“What?” Dean stared wide eyed at Sam, who was glaring at him, the small piece of mistletoe clutched in his fist. Dean was fairly certain that it wasn’t usual to glare at the person you wanted to kiss under the mistletoe. Stunned, he took a half step back. Wait, Sam wanted to kiss him? No, it had to be a prank.
Sam took a step towards him, and if Dean didn’t know him, he would have felt positively menaced.
“Dude, you’re not exactly being enticing.” Dean decided to play along with whatever Sam was up to, so he folded his arms and stared Sam down.
“What?” Sam faltered, blinking, his face softening in confusion.
“If you want to be kissed, quit threatening me.” And that had to be the most surreal thing he’d ever said to his brother, Dean thought.
Sam blushed, as red as the first time he’d been kissed, and Dean would know. He’d been there when Amy Brunt, fourteen with long brown pigtails, had planted one on Sam as he was leaving school to meet Dean.
“This ... isn’t a joke?” Dean asked as Sam became more flustered by the second, suddenly looking spooked and ready to run.
“No, it’s not a joke. I thought you ... thought you wanted it too.”
Dean took a deep breath and moved closer. “Sammy, what’s going on? Why would you think that?”
Sam’s shoulders sagged, and he sat down on the bed, looking down at his feet. Dean sat beside him, making sure he was between Sam and the door.
“Talk to me, man,” Dean pleaded.
On the surface, Sam was offering him something he’d wanted for a long time, but he couldn’t take it unless he was completely sure about Sam’s motives. Jess had only been dead for a couple of months, and if Sam wanted someone to take the edge off, to help push his grief away, then maybe Dean wasn’t the best person for the job. He wanted more from Sam, he wanted all of him, and he couldn’t risk losing him altogether if they weren’t on the same page about this.
“Remember that Christmas you were late back from a hunt with Caleb? I was eighteen, and when you got home, you had a fever?”
“Yeah, I remember.” It wasn’t like Dean was ever going to forget spending the night with Dean Two and crying out Sam’s name as he fucked him.
“You were lying in bed and I was gonna sleep beside you, but when you turned to look at me, there was something about the way you looked at me. I thought you were gonna kiss me,” Sam mumbled.
Dean tried to think of something to say that would make sense without simply telling Sam he’d been imagining things. Because he hadn’t. Dean had wanted to kiss him so badly. Before he came up with anything, Sam went on.
“I’d never thought about it, but after that, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I nearly did it while you were asleep, more than once. I’d move really close until I could feel your breath on my mouth, and wondered what you’d do if you opened your eyes and caught me ...”
“This,” Dean rasped, turning to face Sam and kissing him briefly. He pulled back and smiled at his brother. “Ask me again.”
Sam swallowed, then held the spring of greenery over his head again.
“Kiss me?”
Dean did exactly that. It was a simple press of lips against lips, until Sam sighed and let Dean in. Dean whimpered and kissed him back. Dean Two had tasted good, something Dean had never forgotten, but Sam tasted better. Dean threaded his fingers into Sam’s hair and held him where he was.
After a moment, Sam pulled back and stared down at him.
“We can really do this?” Sam questioned, reaching out to touch Dean’s cheek. “We can do this.”
The second time it was a statement, not a question, and he bent his head again, pushing Dean back on the bed as he kissed him hard. Dean’s fingers fumbled over the buttons on Sam’s shirt, until he gave up and pushed both shirts off together over Sam’s head. Sam grinned, his hair sticking up, nipples hardening as Dean ran a hand down his chest. Sam tried to get Dean’s shirt off, but Dean had waited too long for this, and knew what he wanted. He unfastened Sam’s jeans and ran his hands down Sam’s back, stopping at his hips, resting them there and letting his thumbs play across the dip where his bones were sharp. Sam gasped and pushed into the touch, but Dean wanted more.
He slid a hand inside Sam’s jeans, groaning as he freed the thick length of Sam’s hard cock and pulled on it, smearing the moisture that seeped from the tip with his thumb.
“Dean!” Sam gasped, hips bucking up as Dean worked him.
Dean pushed Sam onto his back, and teased his lips with the tip of his tongue as his strokes became firmer, and more rhythmic. Sam whimpered, body trembling and he reached for Dean, wanting to kiss him harder, but Dean grinned and shook his head.
“I wanna watch you come.”
Sam moaned, and thrust up into Dean’s fist. He looked up at him, locking his eyes on Dean’s, and let himself go. Dean couldn’t tear his gaze away. For years, he’d wondered how Sam would look when he came, what sounds he’d make, and now he got to find out.
Dean watched, mesmerised, as Sam’s eyes glazed over slowly, as his mouth softened, his tongue lapping over his kiss swollen lips. He panted, the breaths becoming harsher and he pushed his head back against the bed, gazing up at Dean. One more pull, and he came, his body tightening, arching off the bed as his cock spurted over his stomach.
“Ah, Dean ...” was all he could manage as Dean pulled every last drop from his body.
As Sam watched, Dean raised his hand to his mouth and licked it clean.
“Want to taste?” He asked.
Sam nodded, eagerly kissing his brother, tasting himself on his lips.
“Dean,” he murmured across Dean’s mouth.
Dean grinned. He could get used to Sam saying his name like that, all fucked out and breathless. Sam surged up from the bed, pushing Dean down onto his back, and peeling his clothes off.
“My turn.” Sam growled.
Dean could get used to that tone of voice too, he decided. All in all, it was turning out to be a great Christmas, he thought as Sam’s hand cupped his dick. But then Sam lowered his head towards Dean’s groin, and Dean lay back. He’d been wrong. It wasn’t a great Christmas, it was the best Christmas ever.
A FEW YEARS LATER ...
Christmas Eve in Chicago was colder than cold. Dean and Sam pushed open the door to the bar and shook the snow from their shoulders before they went any further. Sam grinned at Dean and Dean smiled back. They’d wrapped up a case just over the border in Michigan and decided to head into a city and stay over for Christmas for once. No-one knew them there and they didn’t have to hide anything.
Dean sweet talked the server into giving them a booth, and they ordered a feast from the menu. The whole place was packed with people full of seasonal cheer and the mood was infectious. Dean clinked his beer bottle against Sam’s and they both got stuck in to a pile of appetizers. They talked as they ate, reminiscing over Christmases gone by, the best and the worst of them. They laughed, and it warmed Dean’s heart to see Sam smiling again, that big wide smile that warmed his eyes.
The server cleared their plates and brought another round of beers as Dean made his way to the bathroom. He stopped dead in his tracks at the familiar face staring back at him from the other side of the bar. He did a double take at a guy who looked so like Sam it had to be Dean Forester. His hair was much shorter than Sam’s now, but there was no mistaking him. Dean smiled at him and nodded, a warm look that was returned, then Dean Two was distracted by an equally tall guy with pale blond hair wrapping his arms around him, and kissing him on the cheek.
Dean continued on his way to the bathroom. Dean Two had obviously done well for himself, if his decent clothes and adoring boyfriend were anything to go by, and Dean was happy for him.
When he wandered back to the table, Dean Two was gone. Dean smiled at Sam, and brushed his hand over his when he reached out to take his beer. Sam caught hold of his fingers for a moment before letting them go as the server arrived with more food and a couple of shots of Jack.
“Happy Christmas, Sammy.”
The two small glasses clinked together, before their contents were swallowed down, and Sam returned the sentiment with a smile.
“Happy Christmas, Dean.”
Outside the bar, Dean Forester linked arms with his boyfriend Matt. They walked home, bundled up well against the cold and the softly falling snow.
“Who was that guy?” Matt asked.
“Which guy?”
“The one with the green eyes and killer smile. Do I need to be jealous?”
Dean Two grinned. “No, you need to be grateful. If it wasn’t for him, I could still be back in Stars Hollow, moping around after girls.”
“That was The Dean?” Matt gasped. He’d heard about his Dean’s epiphany during a night spent with a good looking stranger. “Do you think he needs somewhere to stay tonight?” Matt wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Dean Two punched Matt’s arm, then pulled him close again as they walked.
“No, I’m pretty sure he’s got somewhere to stay tonight, and someone to keep him warm.”
On their way out of the bar, Dean Two had noticed someone who could have been his twin sitting in a booth, and guessed that was Dean’s Sam. He hoped that Dean had found what he wanted in Sam, and that they were as happy as he was with Matt.
Later that night, across town in a half decent motel, Dean showed Sam just how happy he was. He laid Sam out over the bed, and kissed his way down his body, greedily sucking on his cock with as much enthusiasm as he’d devoured the pie they’d had for dessert an hour earlier.
In the middle of the night, Dean woke up, went to the bathroom and wandered over to the window to watch the snow falling. He thought of Dean Two, and how maybe what he had with Sam would never have happened if he hadn’t met him and if he hadn’t stayed over in Stars Hollow that night.
The kid had looked happy, which Dean was pleased about. He owed him so much.
“Dean, come back to bed.” Sam’s voice was adorably sleepy. Dean grinned, thinking about the disgusted look he would get if he ever told Sam he was adorable. He slipped back under the covers, and was immediately surrounded by a warm Sam.
“Dude, your feet are cold.” Sam huffed against his neck.
“You’re hot enough to warm them up.” Dean smirked, waiting for a retort, but Sam had already fallen asleep again.
He buried his face in Sam’s hair and kissed the top of his head as he held him close.
Yes, he had a lot to thank his namesake for.
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Characters: Dean/Dean Forester, Dean/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Word count:
Beta:
seleneheartNotes: A gift for
bewaretheides15 as part of the spn_j2_xmas exchange. Dear
bewaretheides15, I used one of your prompts as a starting point:
Dean/Dean Forester from Gilmore Girls. Dean somehow meets Dean as he's passing through Stars Hollow. Sex ensues involving Dean (Winchester)calling Dean (Forester) 'Sammy' and lots of implied Wincesty UST.
I hope it works for you!
Here's wishing you a happy New Year!!
Summary: Dean's tired of Sam and John fighting, but when he decides to stay the night in Stars Hollow on his way back to them, he meets someone he never expected to.
Dean had never intended to stay overnight in Stars Hollow. He was on his way back to John and Sam after a successful hunt with Caleb, and all out of salt and low on lighter fluid. It was meant to be a supply run. He reckoned that there must be a market in the town where he could pick up an emergency supply of at least salt.
Dean drove the Impala through the middle of the town. It was all decked out with Christmas lights and the trees were covered in stars and sparkles. He found somewhere to park just off the town square. As soon as he got out and locked the door, he could smell the scent of coffee on the air, so he followed his nose and found himself pushing open the door of a small diner. It was warm inside, and although it was busy, he found a table in the corner opposite the door and sat down, slipping his jacket off and hanging it on the back of the chair.
A perky waitress wearing glasses took his order, and brought his coffee straight away. She grinned at him, and wove in and out of the tables as she worked her way back to the counter. Dean slowly relaxed, for the first time in a while.
It was nice, sitting on his own, without the constant bickering that was always present when he was with John and Sam now. Separately, they were fine. John was gruff, all business and hunting, but he would mellow out a little after a few drinks and become decent company. That’s when he would tell Dean stories of when he was a kid, of his own Dad, and about his time in the marines.
As for Sam, Dean couldn’t imagine being apart from him for too long. Although lately, Sam had been pissed off with the whole hunting lifestyle, and Dean knew that sometimes included him. The days were gone when Sam would follow him around, looking up to his big brother and Dean knew it was lame, but he missed that. Now, he was lucky if he got a grunt or two out of Sam, unless he was coming back from a hunt, when Sam’s first concern was still to make sure Dean was in one piece.
Dean sighed and sipped on his coffee, taking his time and soaking up a little of the seasonal spirit that hung in the air in the small town. Half an hour later, he wandered through the store the waitress had directed him to, looking for the salt. There hadn’t been any bags of rock salt outside, so he reckoned cooking salt would do for now. He glanced down one aisle and two steps later, backed up and stared at the young guy filling the shelves.
"Sam?" Dean whispered.
His brother was supposed to be back at the apartment they’d been living in for months. But that was a state and a half away, so what the hell was he doing in the middle of nowhere stacking shelves?
The kid didn't look up, not until Dean walked towards him, openly staring. Then he got to his feet and smiled.
"Can I help you?"
Dean looked at the kid and shook his head. No, not Sam. The kid's face was more open, less sullen than the baby brother who rebelled against everything in their world at every opportunity he got.
"No, you reminded me of someone." Dean grinned and shrugged. "Sorry."
"No problem." The kid knelt back down again and got on with the job.
Dean turned to go, but stopped and turned back. The kid looked up at him again.
"I’m looking for salt."
"Sure. I'll show you." Tall, dark, lanky and not Sam got to his feet and led Dean two aisles over.
"So who do I remind you of?"
"Huh?"
"Back there, you said I reminded you of someone."
Dean felt strangely reluctant to say "my brother".
"A friend. I haven't seen him for a while." Or at least that’s what it felt like sometimes.
"Do you miss him?"
"Yeah, I do. We grew up together." Dean stopped himself and shrugged. "Things change."
"Yeah, you're right there." The kid looked wistful.
"You missing someone too?"
The kid squirmed a little and Dean was just about to say that it was none of his business when he replied.
"Not missing them exactly, I just don't know what I want any more." He shrugged and grinned shyly, looking down and letting his bangs fall across his face. "If that makes any kind of sense."
"Yeah, it does." Dean took a chance. "Listen, I'm only in town tonight and you sound like you could do with some company. Do you want to grab a beer after you finish here?"
The kid looked at him and chewed on his lip.
"I'm nineteen, and this is a small town, so ..." He didn't need to spell it out for Dean. Everyone knew everyone else. It wasn’t like he was Sam, with a fake ID in his pocket and no-one to know any different if he walked into a bar.
"Okay, too bad."
"Thanks, though, for the offer."
Dean nodded and grabbed five bags of salt from the shelf. The kid eyed him.
“I think there’s a couple of bags of rock salt out the back, if that would be better?”
“Yeah, sure.”
The kid picked up one bag, and Dean grabbed the other, and after he’d paid, they took them out to the Impala.
“Sweet ride.” The kid’s eyes roamed over her appreciatively.
“She is that,” Dean beamed. "What's your name?"
"Dean."
"Dean?"
"Yeah, Dean Forester. Is there a problem with that?"
"No, it's my name too."
Dean Two’s eyes widened and he snorted with laughter. "Well, Dean, it was good to meet you.”
He stuck his hand out, so Dean took it, giving it a manly shake, but the kid held on a little longer than he’d expected. Dean eyed him again, wondering what would have happened if they had been able to get that drink together.
“Yeah, see you around.” Dean closed the trunk of the car and slid into the driver’s seat.
His palm tingled where Dean Two’s hand had lingered, and a stray thought crossed his mind.
“It would be like kissing Sam.”
Dean’s hand slipped, and he crashed the gears as he pulled away, shaking his head to rid himself of any more disturbing thoughts.
Dean drove to the motel on the far side of town. The server in the coffee shop had recommended an inn, but Dean’s budget wasn’t going to stretch that far. He grabbed his bag from the trunk, showered and ordered pizza to go with the half bottle of Jack he’d got stashed in his stuff.
There was a sharp rap on the door, and he picked up his wallet, thinking it would be the pizza arriving, but when he opened the door, his namesake was standing outside.
“Huh.” Dean stepped back, surprised. “Hey ... Dean Two.”
“Hi.” The kid held up a six pack and grinned at Dean. “Is the offer still open?”
“Sure.” Dean swung the door wider to let Dean Two into the room. “How’d you know where to find me?”
“Well, I figured you wouldn’t stay at the inn, and this is pretty much the only other place around, so I took a chance and recognised your car.”
Before Dean could close the door, the pizza arrived. The kid who delivered it eyed Dean Two standing just inside Dean’s motel room, and took the money and tip with a nod. When Dean kicked the door shut behind him and put the pizza down on the small table, he noticed Dean Two looking uncomfortable with a hint of color high on his cheeks.
“Small towns,” Dean Two explained when Dean motioned him over to sit on the couch and share the pizza. “Everyone knows everyone else. You know how that is?”
“Not really,” Dean shrugged. “My Dad travels around a lot for work, so we’ve always been on the road.”
“I’d like that kind of freedom.” Dean Two sounded wistful.
“You got something keeping you here? Or someone?” Dean asked as he popped open a bottle for himself and nudged another in Dean Two’s direction. The kid shrugged, and tucked into another piece of pizza. “Come on, man, there has to be a story here.”
“Why do you think I have a story?”
“You said earlier that you were missing someone. And now you’re drinking with a stranger in his motel room.”
Dean Two drank down half of the bottle in his hand, then took a deep breath. It looked to Dean as if he had come to a decision about something, so he sat forward, curious about the stranger who looked so very much like Sam.
“I was married until a few months ago, but my wife found out that I cheated on her with my ex, and ended it. My ex was the love of my life and it’s her I’m having a hard time getting over, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with my life.” Dean Two grabbed the bottle of Jack that was sitting on the table, twisted the cap off and gulped back a good mouthful as Dean watched with raised eyebrows. He took the bottle from the kid, and swallowed a mouthful himself.
“Dude, how old are you? You’ve got a failed marriage and have lost the love of your life and you don’t look older than fifteen!” Dean jostled Dean Two’s shoulder.
“I’m nineteen.” He grumbled, but there was a small smile playing around his lips.
“You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, man. You’ll make plenty more mistakes, trust me, but you can do whatever you want.”
“Yeah?” Dean Two looked up at Dean and blinked those oh so familiar eyes.
“Yeah.” Dean shrugged.
Before Dean could take another shot straight from the bottle, Dean Two moved closer, and kissed him. Dean started, taken aback by the bold move, causing Dean Two to pull straight back. He got to his feet, blushing and running a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry ... I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s okay, it’s no big deal.” Dean stood up, holding out his hands, wanting to calm Dean Two down.
“It isn’t?”
“Why did you come here tonight?”
“I don’t ... I’m not sure.” Dean Two bit his lip, reminding Dean even more of his brother.
“You ever kissed a guy before?” Dean stepped into his space.
“No.” Dean Two ducked his head, shaking it. “But I’ve thought about it.”
Dean reached forward, put a finger under his chin and tilted his head back up.
“Do you want to do it again?”
Dean Two nodded, his breath suddenly ragged. “Yeah, yeah I do.”
Dean slipped his hand onto Dean Two’s neck and urged him forward. This time when their lips met, Dean was ready for it and parted his, kissing Dean Two gently at first until the kid groaned into his mouth. It took a heartbeat for Dean to get with the program and understand that he may as well be kissing his brother. The shock of what he was doing hit him as a sharp spike of arousal, and instead of pushing Dean Two away, he moved closer, arching his back as Dean Two’s curious fingers explored under the hem of his shirt, finding skin.
Dean pulled Dean Two back down to the couch, pushing a hand under the soft fabric of his t shirt. The kid squirmed against Dean, hissing into his mouth at the first touch. He surged against him, kissing him harder, as Dean’s hand ran up the curve of his spine.
Dean went with it, lying back against the cushions on the worn couch, letting Dean Two rut against him, pushing his hips up and groaning at the eager response he got. Dean Two squirmed, unfastening the buttons of Dean’s shirt with clumsy fingers. Dean softly bit down on the kiss swollen bottom lip that was brushing against his, sucking on the trapped flesh until Dean Two was gasping and grinding down. The movement increased in urgency as Dean slid a hand down the back of Dean Two’s loose jeans, cupping his ass and squeezing.
“God yes.” Dean Two breathed, and pulled back, looking at Dean with lust darkened eyes.
Dean faltered in his exploration of Dean Two’s body. The kid was the image of Sam and it hit Dean hard that it was a freaky situation to be in. He’d never thought of Sam like that before, but now, he couldn’t stop himself. Still, he hesitated, knowing the sensible thing, the right thing to do would be to push Dean Two away, to give him lame excuses and send him on his way.
But Dean Two bent down, placing a soft kiss on the side of Dean’s jaw.
“Sammy.” Dean moaned softly, then froze. Thinking it was one thing, but saying his name out loud was different.
“It’s okay.” Dean Two whispered in his ear.
Dean couldn’t help tilting his head back, giving Dean Two easier access to his neck, which the kid took advantage of, kissing his way down the side of Dean’s throat. He pushed Dean’s shirt open as far as he could, and continued on, along Dean’s collar bone, working lower.
Now it was Dean’s turn to arch up, and his fingers dug into Dean Two’s messy hair. What if it was Sam? Dean wondered. If Sam was pressed against him, hard and clearly wanting more, would he be able to stop? Dean looked down as Dean Two mouthed one of his nipples, and almost came in his pants as he gave himself over to the fantasy that this was Sam, his Sammy.
“Sam,” Dean murmured, which only seemed to encourage Dean Two.
He bit down, worrying the small, hard nub between his teeth. Dean groaned, letting Dean Two take the lead for a while as the kid kissed and licked his way down Dean’s torso.
Determined fingers unfastened his belt and opened his jeans, easing the waistband of his underwear down to free his cock. Dean groaned as Dean Two ran his hand down the length of it. He wrapped his fingers around the hard flesh and gripped it firmly, the same way he would hold his own dick when he was jerking off. He looked up at Dean as he lowered his head, boldly swiping his tongue across the tip.
“There’s more room on the bed.” Dean sat up as he made the suggestion, getting to his feet as Dean Two did, and stripping off the rest of his clothes. Dean Two followed his lead, stripping down with no hesitation. He watched as Dean sprawled out over the bed furthest from the door, and dug around in his jacket pocket before joining him.
“You came prepared,” Dean commented as Dean Two dropped a tube of lube and a pack of condoms on the nightstand.
“Want you to fuck me.” Dean Two straddled Dean’s hips
Dean groaned and reached round to cup Dean Two’s ass cheeks. He pulled them apart, and grazed a finger down his crack.
“Pass me the lube.”
Dean Two did as he was told, leaning over and picking up the tube. He flipped the cap, and drizzled it over the fingers that Dean held up for him. With his clean hand, Dean pulled the kid down and kissed him, a little more gently than before. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was Sam he was indoctrinating into the joys of gay sex. Even if it wasn’t, he’d want to make the kid’s first time as good as he could, but when Dean Two looked at him with trust in his eyes, Dean was back to having Sam sitting naked on top of him, and with that came a need to protect.
“Relax. It’ll feel weird at first.”
Dean Two nodded, then straightened up as Dean’s fingers began exploring. First, he pressed on Dean Two’s hole, slipping just the tip of his finger inside and circling it around. He pushed in deeper, as Dean Two moaned and let out a long sigh. Dean felt his muscles relax, and made use of it, pulling out and adding a second finger. Dean Two’s tight hole spasmed around Dean’s fingers giving Dean an idea of what it was going to be like to be buried inside him, fucking into him.
Dean took his time, opening Dean Two as much as he could, smiling as the kid jumped then groaned long and low when Dean massaged his prostate.
It was Dean Two that grabbed the condom and tore the packet open. Dean took it from him and rolled it over his own dick. Again, he reached for the kid, giving him a reassuring kiss.
“When I start pushing in, push down, okay?”
Dean Two nodded, and as Dean lined up, and tilted his hips, Dean Two took a shaky breath and relaxed as much as he could, pushing down as Dean had told him to do. He whimpered as Dean pushed inside him, gasping and gripping onto Dean’s shoulders as he lowered himself down.
Dean put a hand on Dean Two’s face, watching him, keeping a tight rein on the urge to fuck hard and fast.
“Say his name.” The kid bent down and kissed Dean, biting at his bottom lip. “I wanna hear you say his name.”
“Sammy ...” Dean moaned as Dean Two squirmed until Dean was in him to the hilt.
“Fuck me.” Dean Two whispered in Dean’s ear and watched as Dean gave himself up to the fantasy.
He thrust up, giving the kid what he wanted, fucking him hard, holding onto his hips so tight there would be bruises there for days.
“Touch yourself.” Dean growled, running his hands up Dean Two’s spread thighs, cupping his balls and stroking his soft skin.
Dean two took his cock in hand and pulled on it as Dean fucked him. His senses overloaded, his skin prickling with sweat, his thighs aching as he rode Dean, meeting every thrust. Dean reached up with one hand, pinching a nipple, twisting it until Dean Two cried out, his body taut, ready to come apart. Dean powered into him, and spurts of come hit his chest as Dean Two came, his ass tightening around Dean suddenly, and dean followed him, filling the condom, pumping up into Dean Two with his brother’s name on his lips.
“Ah, Sam, fuck ...”
As the lay together, sweaty and sated, Dean wondered if he could ever look at Sam again without thinking about what he’d just done.
Dean Two propped himself up on one elbow and reached out to touch Dean’s shoulder.
“I think I figured out why it’s never worked out for me with girls,” he said with a rueful smile on his face.
“Really?” Dean quirked an eyebrow at him and rolled onto his side, looking at the face that could have been Sam’s.
“How about you?”
“Huh?”
“You called me Sammy. Not that it was a problem, but that’s who I remind you of, isn’t it?”
Dean paused, not wanting to give anything away, but the kid knew nothing about him or his family.
“Yeah, but I never thought about him like that before this.” Dean hoped to God that he wasn’t blushing.
“Maybe he might think the same of you, if you tell him.”
“It’s ... complicated.” Dean looked away, wishing that it was Sam lying beside him.
A hand on his face startled him, but he pressed into the touch.
“It’s always complicated.” Dean Two slid closer, and straight into Dean’s willing arms. “But if you don’t ask, you’ll never know.”
The next morning, Dean woke first and stared at Dean Two for the longest time. He wanted to kiss him awake, to see his sleepy eyes open and smile at him, wanted to touch him again, make him moan and cry out, but it wasn’t Dean Two that Dean really wanted, it was Sam.
So he slipped from the bed with a sigh, and grabbed a quick shower. He was halfway through getting dressed and packing his stuff away when he realized he was being watched.
“Sorry, I’ve got to go, got to get back to my brother before Christmas. The room’s paid for until noon, so stay as long as you like.”
“Thanks. And thanks.”
“Hey, I had a good time too.” Dean smirked.
“No, I meant for helping me realize I’ve not been honest with myself.”
“No problem,” Dean shrugged and smiled again. “Happy to help.”
“Think about telling Sam how you really feel?”
“Yeah,” Dean said, the smile slipping from his face. “I’ll think about it. Take care, man.”
“You too.”
Dean Two snuggled back down to sleep as Dean closed the door behind himself on the way out to the Impala.
Dean sat behind the wheel for a while, wondering how the hell he was going to face Sam after what he’d just done. He slammed a Metallica tape into the player, and headed out, concentrating on the heavy beat and pushing thoughts of the night before away.
Dean didn’t get back to the apartment they’d been staying in until after dark. John’s truck was already gone, but there was a light still on in the kitchen of the cosy place they’d called home for almost six months.
As he pulled up, the front door was flung open even before he’d turned the Impala’s engine off.
“You’re late.” Sam grinned as Dean grabbed his bag from the trunk. “Dad’s already gone.”
“I can see that.” Dean smiled and rolled his eyes. Lately, Sam was a different person when John wasn’t around. It made Dean long for simpler times, back when Sam was younger, but nothing could make the two of them see eye to eye.
“I didn’t think you’d make it back in time.” Sam almost bounced on the balls of his feet.
“I wouldn’t leave you alone for Christmas, Sammy, you know that.”
There was already a pizza sitting in a box on the table when Dean wandered through to the kitchen. Sam brushed past him and pulled a couple of beers from the fridge. He cracked them both open then sat down at the table and opened the box. Half the pizza was already gone, and Dean reckoned Sam must have inhaled it because his half was still warm.
“Want another slice?” Dean offered.
Sam beamed and helped himself to more pizza. He wolfed it down, and tipped the beer bottle up to his mouth, drinking deeply.
Dean watched Sam’s throat move, watched as he wrapped his mouth around the bottle to drink.
“Dean?” Sam waved a hand in front of his face.
“Yeah?” Dean snapped back, stuffing the pizza into his mouth.
“You zoned out.”
“Tired, I guess.”
Crap, he thought to himself. He had to snap out of it, had to keep himself under control. But it didn’t get any easier as the night wore on. Later, after they’d watched a couple of movies, Sam didn’t even pretend to try and sleep in his own bed, he got straight in with Dean. For the first time ever, Dean tensed up. His body had been pressed against Dean Two’s just the night before, and it wasn’t listening to Dean’s silent pleas to behave and not react to the nearness of such a familiar warmth.
“Dean? You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Dean rasped.
Sam propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at his brother. “You don’t sound fine.” He moved closer, biting on his lip.
“I, er, I’m ...” Dean looked up at Sam, and unconsciously tilted his head up.
Sam stared at him, confusion on his face and Dean blushed, right down to his toes at the memory of whispering Sam’s name as he came in Dean Two’s ass the night before.
Frowning, Sam slapped a hand against Dean’s forehead.
“Are you coming down with something? Your temperature is way up.”
“Yeah, I think I am.” Dean shivered, but not because of a non-existent fever. Sam wriggling around against him was doing all kinds of things that it really shouldn’t. “I could do with a glass of water.”
Sam threw himself out of bed, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief to have the temptation temporarily removed. He banged his head back against the pillow, refusing to let what had happened with Dean Two sour his relationship with Sam.
The door opened, and Sam walked in with water and flu meds. Dean swallowed them down dutifully.
“They’ll make you sleepy.” Sam sounded a little disappointed.
“Why don’t we go and pick up a tree tomorrow? Make the place feel like Christmas?”
Dean didn’t have a lot of cash spare, but he reckoned that with it being Christmas Eve the next day, they could pick up enough stuff on last minute sale to decorate the apartment.
“Okay.” Sam grinned, the happiness on his face making him look younger than his eighteen years.
Sam climbed into his own bed, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He glanced over to where Sam was lying, wrapped around a pillow, looking over at Dean.
“So? What happened on the hunt?”
Dean turned over to face Sam across the gap between the beds and launched into a blow by blow account of his heroics on the hunt with Caleb. He didn’t notice he was getting sleepy until he woke up to find Sam pulling the blanket further over him, and lying down next to him. Dean was sufficiently dulled by the meds not to react in the wrong way, and he happily fell straight back to sleep, curled around Sam.
The following year was a difficult one. Dean pushed his very unbrotherly feelings for Sam right down, until it was almost like his night with Dean Two never happened. But then something Sam said or did would catch him unawares, and he’d be straight back to that sick longing feeling that twisted inside him. He knew it was wrong to want Sam, and he did his best to act as if nothing had changed. Sometimes, he’d notice Sam looking at him with something unfathomable in his eyes, but he shrugged it off, hoping he hadn’t slipped and given away his feelings.
Months later, when Sam announced his intention to leave and go to Stanford, Dean bit back his gut reaction. How could he ask Sam not to leave?
He remembered what he’d told Dean Two, that he could do anything he wanted to be. He felt like the world’s biggest hypocrite because he didn’t want Sam to go, to leave him.
The first Christmas Sam was gone, Dean found himself driving towards Stars Hollow again. He’d tried his best not to think of Dean Two, but he missed Sam badly and Sam was making it clear that he had a new life now, and didn’t need Dean to crash into it.
Morose, Dean parked up in front of the market. He got out of the Impala and pulled his jacket closed against the bitingly cold wind. Inside, the market was warm and smelled of Christmas spices. He walked around the place, looking down each of the aisles, but there was no sign of Dean Two.
“Can I help you?”
Dean turned to find the owner of the chipper voice smiling up at him.
“I was looking for a friend of mine. His name’s Dean and he was working here last year.”
“Dean Forrester? He left last spring, moved back to Chicago.”
“Oh.”
“He’s doing really well for himself from what I hear.”
“That’s good to hear. Thanks.”
Dean wandered out of the market. He was about to get into the Impala and head south, roughly towards where John had been the last time they’d spoken two weeks earlier, but he noticed that people were all walking towards the town square, where a pavilion was decorated with lights.
He paused, thinking he should really get going, but instead, he allowed himself to be swept up by the slow moving crowd. Along the way, he bought coffee and pastries from vendors serving goodies from stalls. He munched on a bear claw and listened to the cheesy Christmas music that was being played by the band. As he ate, he looked around at the townspeople, wondering if either of the girls Dean Two had told him about were there, maybe missing the tall kid with dark hair just a little.
Dean suddenly realized that he was in the wrong place. He hastily finished his pastry and coffee, his mind made up. He was missing a tall kid with dark, floppy hair, and it wasn’t the one he’d slept with a year ago, it was his brother. Dean made his way back to the car, but when he left town, he didn’t head south, he headed west.
It was days before he arrived in California, and Christmas Day had come and gone, but he got to see Sam. It was from a distance, as Sam and his friends left a bar, their faces happy and Sam’s smile widening as a tall blonde girl snuggled against his side as they walked. Dean watched from where he stood in a darkened doorway across the street. It was what Sam deserved. A normal life. And if he’d found that, then Dean was happy for him.
Neither of them could have known how it would end, with Jess burned up on the ceiling and John missing.
Their first Christmas back on the road together, Dean tried to make it special for Sam. He considered taking Sam to Stars Hollow, because for Dean, the place would always be associated with Christmas, but he knew he couldn’t. Sam looking so much like Dean Two would get him noticed, Dean thought, and then there would be the explanations as to Sam about how Dean knew the place. Accomplished liar he might be, but nothing he could say would ring true, not in that case.
They found somewhere to stay over the holidays, a motel room with a kitchen, and while Sam was out picking up snacks and beer from the mini mart, Dean found a half decent tree in a local plant nursery, and because he smiled nicely at the middle aged woman who served him, he ended up with a pile of other stuff that she declared “would just go to waste”.
When Sam got back to their motel room, the small tree was in one corner, with so many lights on it could hardly stand upright, and there was a wreath lying on one of the beds, that Dean didn’t know where to hang.
Sam’s face lit up and he grinned at Dean, ducking his head down. Dean took the bags from him and set them down on the table. All they needed now was pizza and a movie to watch and they were set.
Sam sat down, studying the wreath. He picked at a couple of stems, freeing a sprig of something from the rest of the foliage.
“Sam?” Dean questioned, as Sam stood and held the sprig over his head as he turned to face Dean.
“Mistletoe,” Sam stated the obvious.
“Yeah, but ...”
“I dare you.”
“What?” Dean stared wide eyed at Sam, who was glaring at him, the small piece of mistletoe clutched in his fist. Dean was fairly certain that it wasn’t usual to glare at the person you wanted to kiss under the mistletoe. Stunned, he took a half step back. Wait, Sam wanted to kiss him? No, it had to be a prank.
Sam took a step towards him, and if Dean didn’t know him, he would have felt positively menaced.
“Dude, you’re not exactly being enticing.” Dean decided to play along with whatever Sam was up to, so he folded his arms and stared Sam down.
“What?” Sam faltered, blinking, his face softening in confusion.
“If you want to be kissed, quit threatening me.” And that had to be the most surreal thing he’d ever said to his brother, Dean thought.
Sam blushed, as red as the first time he’d been kissed, and Dean would know. He’d been there when Amy Brunt, fourteen with long brown pigtails, had planted one on Sam as he was leaving school to meet Dean.
“This ... isn’t a joke?” Dean asked as Sam became more flustered by the second, suddenly looking spooked and ready to run.
“No, it’s not a joke. I thought you ... thought you wanted it too.”
Dean took a deep breath and moved closer. “Sammy, what’s going on? Why would you think that?”
Sam’s shoulders sagged, and he sat down on the bed, looking down at his feet. Dean sat beside him, making sure he was between Sam and the door.
“Talk to me, man,” Dean pleaded.
On the surface, Sam was offering him something he’d wanted for a long time, but he couldn’t take it unless he was completely sure about Sam’s motives. Jess had only been dead for a couple of months, and if Sam wanted someone to take the edge off, to help push his grief away, then maybe Dean wasn’t the best person for the job. He wanted more from Sam, he wanted all of him, and he couldn’t risk losing him altogether if they weren’t on the same page about this.
“Remember that Christmas you were late back from a hunt with Caleb? I was eighteen, and when you got home, you had a fever?”
“Yeah, I remember.” It wasn’t like Dean was ever going to forget spending the night with Dean Two and crying out Sam’s name as he fucked him.
“You were lying in bed and I was gonna sleep beside you, but when you turned to look at me, there was something about the way you looked at me. I thought you were gonna kiss me,” Sam mumbled.
Dean tried to think of something to say that would make sense without simply telling Sam he’d been imagining things. Because he hadn’t. Dean had wanted to kiss him so badly. Before he came up with anything, Sam went on.
“I’d never thought about it, but after that, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I nearly did it while you were asleep, more than once. I’d move really close until I could feel your breath on my mouth, and wondered what you’d do if you opened your eyes and caught me ...”
“This,” Dean rasped, turning to face Sam and kissing him briefly. He pulled back and smiled at his brother. “Ask me again.”
Sam swallowed, then held the spring of greenery over his head again.
“Kiss me?”
Dean did exactly that. It was a simple press of lips against lips, until Sam sighed and let Dean in. Dean whimpered and kissed him back. Dean Two had tasted good, something Dean had never forgotten, but Sam tasted better. Dean threaded his fingers into Sam’s hair and held him where he was.
After a moment, Sam pulled back and stared down at him.
“We can really do this?” Sam questioned, reaching out to touch Dean’s cheek. “We can do this.”
The second time it was a statement, not a question, and he bent his head again, pushing Dean back on the bed as he kissed him hard. Dean’s fingers fumbled over the buttons on Sam’s shirt, until he gave up and pushed both shirts off together over Sam’s head. Sam grinned, his hair sticking up, nipples hardening as Dean ran a hand down his chest. Sam tried to get Dean’s shirt off, but Dean had waited too long for this, and knew what he wanted. He unfastened Sam’s jeans and ran his hands down Sam’s back, stopping at his hips, resting them there and letting his thumbs play across the dip where his bones were sharp. Sam gasped and pushed into the touch, but Dean wanted more.
He slid a hand inside Sam’s jeans, groaning as he freed the thick length of Sam’s hard cock and pulled on it, smearing the moisture that seeped from the tip with his thumb.
“Dean!” Sam gasped, hips bucking up as Dean worked him.
Dean pushed Sam onto his back, and teased his lips with the tip of his tongue as his strokes became firmer, and more rhythmic. Sam whimpered, body trembling and he reached for Dean, wanting to kiss him harder, but Dean grinned and shook his head.
“I wanna watch you come.”
Sam moaned, and thrust up into Dean’s fist. He looked up at him, locking his eyes on Dean’s, and let himself go. Dean couldn’t tear his gaze away. For years, he’d wondered how Sam would look when he came, what sounds he’d make, and now he got to find out.
Dean watched, mesmerised, as Sam’s eyes glazed over slowly, as his mouth softened, his tongue lapping over his kiss swollen lips. He panted, the breaths becoming harsher and he pushed his head back against the bed, gazing up at Dean. One more pull, and he came, his body tightening, arching off the bed as his cock spurted over his stomach.
“Ah, Dean ...” was all he could manage as Dean pulled every last drop from his body.
As Sam watched, Dean raised his hand to his mouth and licked it clean.
“Want to taste?” He asked.
Sam nodded, eagerly kissing his brother, tasting himself on his lips.
“Dean,” he murmured across Dean’s mouth.
Dean grinned. He could get used to Sam saying his name like that, all fucked out and breathless. Sam surged up from the bed, pushing Dean down onto his back, and peeling his clothes off.
“My turn.” Sam growled.
Dean could get used to that tone of voice too, he decided. All in all, it was turning out to be a great Christmas, he thought as Sam’s hand cupped his dick. But then Sam lowered his head towards Dean’s groin, and Dean lay back. He’d been wrong. It wasn’t a great Christmas, it was the best Christmas ever.
A FEW YEARS LATER ...
Christmas Eve in Chicago was colder than cold. Dean and Sam pushed open the door to the bar and shook the snow from their shoulders before they went any further. Sam grinned at Dean and Dean smiled back. They’d wrapped up a case just over the border in Michigan and decided to head into a city and stay over for Christmas for once. No-one knew them there and they didn’t have to hide anything.
Dean sweet talked the server into giving them a booth, and they ordered a feast from the menu. The whole place was packed with people full of seasonal cheer and the mood was infectious. Dean clinked his beer bottle against Sam’s and they both got stuck in to a pile of appetizers. They talked as they ate, reminiscing over Christmases gone by, the best and the worst of them. They laughed, and it warmed Dean’s heart to see Sam smiling again, that big wide smile that warmed his eyes.
The server cleared their plates and brought another round of beers as Dean made his way to the bathroom. He stopped dead in his tracks at the familiar face staring back at him from the other side of the bar. He did a double take at a guy who looked so like Sam it had to be Dean Forester. His hair was much shorter than Sam’s now, but there was no mistaking him. Dean smiled at him and nodded, a warm look that was returned, then Dean Two was distracted by an equally tall guy with pale blond hair wrapping his arms around him, and kissing him on the cheek.
Dean continued on his way to the bathroom. Dean Two had obviously done well for himself, if his decent clothes and adoring boyfriend were anything to go by, and Dean was happy for him.
When he wandered back to the table, Dean Two was gone. Dean smiled at Sam, and brushed his hand over his when he reached out to take his beer. Sam caught hold of his fingers for a moment before letting them go as the server arrived with more food and a couple of shots of Jack.
“Happy Christmas, Sammy.”
The two small glasses clinked together, before their contents were swallowed down, and Sam returned the sentiment with a smile.
“Happy Christmas, Dean.”
Outside the bar, Dean Forester linked arms with his boyfriend Matt. They walked home, bundled up well against the cold and the softly falling snow.
“Who was that guy?” Matt asked.
“Which guy?”
“The one with the green eyes and killer smile. Do I need to be jealous?”
Dean Two grinned. “No, you need to be grateful. If it wasn’t for him, I could still be back in Stars Hollow, moping around after girls.”
“That was The Dean?” Matt gasped. He’d heard about his Dean’s epiphany during a night spent with a good looking stranger. “Do you think he needs somewhere to stay tonight?” Matt wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Dean Two punched Matt’s arm, then pulled him close again as they walked.
“No, I’m pretty sure he’s got somewhere to stay tonight, and someone to keep him warm.”
On their way out of the bar, Dean Two had noticed someone who could have been his twin sitting in a booth, and guessed that was Dean’s Sam. He hoped that Dean had found what he wanted in Sam, and that they were as happy as he was with Matt.
Later that night, across town in a half decent motel, Dean showed Sam just how happy he was. He laid Sam out over the bed, and kissed his way down his body, greedily sucking on his cock with as much enthusiasm as he’d devoured the pie they’d had for dessert an hour earlier.
In the middle of the night, Dean woke up, went to the bathroom and wandered over to the window to watch the snow falling. He thought of Dean Two, and how maybe what he had with Sam would never have happened if he hadn’t met him and if he hadn’t stayed over in Stars Hollow that night.
The kid had looked happy, which Dean was pleased about. He owed him so much.
“Dean, come back to bed.” Sam’s voice was adorably sleepy. Dean grinned, thinking about the disgusted look he would get if he ever told Sam he was adorable. He slipped back under the covers, and was immediately surrounded by a warm Sam.
“Dude, your feet are cold.” Sam huffed against his neck.
“You’re hot enough to warm them up.” Dean smirked, waiting for a retort, but Sam had already fallen asleep again.
He buried his face in Sam’s hair and kissed the top of his head as he held him close.
Yes, he had a lot to thank his namesake for.
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